Photo by Clique Images on Unsplash
“When I’m trying to lift 400lbs, I’m mentally training for life. Through self-discipline and repetition of things I don’t want to do, I’m training for life.”
– David Goggins
Training for life
David Goggins talks extensively about the dark depths of despair he’s been in throughout his life, and how he’s overcome these situations by battling through insane challenges of endurance like running a 101 miles even though he was overweight and had never run a marathon before.
He started shitting blood down his leg after 70 miles, and then he kept going.
And that’s how he approaches everything in life, continuing to pursue his goals even when he’s been shitting blood down his leg, metaphorically speaking.
He’s battled mental trauma from an abusive childhood and risen to the top of his field, completed impossible-seeming feats of endurance, broken world records and inspired countless others to achieve their dreams by speaking and writing books about the whole thing.
When he’s lifting heavy things, he’s not just training to be strong in the gym. He’s training himself to develop the strength to get through whatever life throws at him.
There are lessons to be learned from everything. And it doesn’t have to be about strength and lifting weights. It’s all about how you approach what you’re doing.
Learning by doing
In the last couple of years I’ve learnt a lot from running.
And not the sort of learning where you recite facts you read on an internet article.
The kind of things you learn only from doing things.
There are physical benefits, sure. And the mental benefits range from tangible things like reduced stress and anxiety, to less obvious results like improved self-confidence, focus and self-discipline.
There are days when you just don’t want to stop. Even when you’re exhausted, the feeling of just being content with where you are, of putting one foot in front of the other, of taking in the sights and sounds and movement of the people and landscapes and world around you as it moves in its daily cycle, the feeling of wind and rain and sunlight on your skin, the most content feeling of being.
It’s a pure appreciation of nature and of life.
It sounds joyful, but strangely enough, it’s something that you not only have to learn, but practice, to maintain.
The feeling of exhilaration after a run is so well known it has its own name: the ‘runner’s high’.
Chris McDougall’s thesis in his life-affirming book Born to Run is just that: humans are born to run, and survived the ruthless game of historical evolution for hundreds of thousands of years by being the natural world’s best adapted long-distance runners. Lions and bears are the most vicious, giraffe’s have the longest necks, chameleons are highly adaptable to their surroundings, and humans can run a horse or an antelope to death over the course of a few days.
It makes sense then that we’d feel at our best when engaging in something we’ve evolved to do.
Runner’s High as flow
What if you could always feel like that?
The so-called ‘runner’s high’ is actually a flow state. Such is its simplicity when applied to running that it doesn’t feel like you’re doing anything at all to experience it.
The combination of exercise and enforced rhythmic breathing puts your body into a state similar to that experienced through meditation or yoga. And it’s also the same flow state that people experience when they’re deeply immersed in an activity they love, pushing the limits of their skills and succeeding at it.
‘Flow’, or ‘optimal performance’, is
“…being completely involved in an activity for its own sake. The ego falls away. Time flies. Every action, movement, and thought follows inevitably from the previous one, like playing jazz. Your whole being is involved, and you’re using your skills to the utmost.”
And according to psychologist Mihalyi Csikszentmihalyi (it’s pronounced like ‘Cheeks…’), who’s developed and popularised the concept of flow, the flow state isn’t a high at all — it’s the way we’re supposed to be as humans, the natural way in which our consciousness should be ordered all the time.
You can experience a flow state while performing any sort of action, though sports and creative activities seem to be particularly good at inducing it, by wrapping skilful and difficult work up in a fun activity.
Flow occurs when we’re pushing the boundaries of our skills in pursuing meaningful challenges with defined goals; in doing so our minds inhabit the space of utmost contentment.
It’s where we’re truly happiest.
It can be difficult to achieve in everyday life though. There are distractions and responsibilities and it’s easy to drift away and float from one task to the next.
But if you train in a flow state, at any activity, you’re training yourself to know what it feels like. You can channel the days where you don’t want to stop running into the days where you just don’t want to stop living. Be it cleaning the house, chatting with your friends, or just getting a job done at work.
When I get home from a run, I do more things. Simple things like making the dinner without hesitation or deliberation. The house gets cleaned. Emails get sent. I call my mother. I can sit down and write freely and clearly, or at least more so than usual.
Things are easier.
I am myself.
“Know that which is called yoga to be separation from contact with suffering”.
Yoga and meditation are ancient methods, popular worldwide now, of achieving flow states through mastery of bodily postures and breathing. They’re basically designed to put the mind in a state of flow — its natural ideal state — but any activity can achieve the same thing.
The Bhagavad Gita describes yoga as “skill in action”.
Different forms of meditation are even simpler ways to achieve the same, by focusing on the breath, the body, or a single thought.
The effects of meditation and yoga are remarkably similar to how Csikszentmihalyi highlights top performers describing their experiences of flow states when performing at the peak of their abilities.
An ocean race-sailor, who happened to also be a practicing poet, described the experience of being in a state of flow beautifully rendered in an ode to his life on the ocean:
“So one forgets oneself, one forgets everything, seeing only the play of the boat with the sea, the play of the sea around the boat, leaving aside everything not essential to that game.”
But by being so totally immersed in one’s activities, whether on the boat or on the pitch or in the home, one becomes bigger than oneself before taking the experience ‘back to the real world’.
The lessons learned from being in flow states can be carried into the rest of your life.
Learning doesn’t come from the absorption of information from a teacher, a book, or a blog post.
It comes from experience.
And when we learn to do things by experience, that is when you can transform your life through doing things you love, whether physical, creative or routine tasks.
When you’re starting a yoga class the instructor will often ask you to set an intention. This isn’t some wishing on a star or a letter to Santa. The aim is that the hard work you do in your yoga practice is dedicated towards your overall goals and vision of who you are.
When you set goals in life, and truly want to work towards them, then everything you do, whether consciously or unconsciously, will drive you towards those goals.
The work you do in your yoga practice is meant to carry through into your whole life.
And the work you do in the gym, or on the football pitch, or in practicing playing the piano, or even ‘at work’ — can similarly carry over into your everyday life.
If you train in a flow state with the right intentions then the benefits will be seen in everything you do.
Who do you want to be?
I quote Dean Karnazes a lot, because he’s written some lovely things about running, such as this answer to the question of why he runs:
“I run because if I didn’t, I’d be sluggish and glum and spend too much time on the couch. I run to breathe the fresh air. I run to explore. I run to escape the ordinary. I run…to savor the trip along the way. Life becomes a little more vibrant, a little more intense. I like that.”
For Dean, running isn’t just a healthy hobby or habit, it’s an expression of his whole being. And the more he practices being himself, the more he is becomes himself; it’s self-sustaining.
As Csikszentmihalyi explains, those who are intrinsically motivated — that is, their goals are deeply rooted in their being — they can concentrate on going about their lives. They don’t need to spend time or mental energy to make decisions, as they just know what to do.
And so it is with training your body through flow.
As Chris McDougall comments in Born to Run: “If you don’t have answers to your problems after a four-hour run, you ain’t getting them.”
The chatter in your mind isn’t the one solving the problems. At best it’s just outlining them. The subconscious will work things out for you if you allow it to. Meditation and yoga are intended to ‘quieten the mind’, as that’s when the mind does its best work. But as their sacred texts remind us, they’re just other forms of ‘skill in action’. The mind can be sufficiently quietened by practicing anything, and if you practice being in a flow state, the benefits will be much further reaching than when you’re just doing that.
The endurance of running.
The peace of walking.
The creativity of writing.
The patience, humility and surrender of surfing.
The rush of sky diving.
The love of time spent with your friends.
The satisfaction, service and cleanliness of cleaning your house or unblocking the toilet.
Seriously.
The way you do the smallest, most tedious tasks is the way you do everything.
Every action matters.
As Goggins says about deadlifting intense weights — it’s all training for life.
Go the extra mile in your training — while fully immersed in it and operating on the edges of your capabilities — and the benefits will carry over into the rest of your life.
To William Finnegan, the Pulitzer-prize winning journalist and life-long surfing obsessive,
“surfing only looks like a sport. To initiates, it is something else entirely: a beautiful addiction, a demanding course of study, a morally dangerous pastime, a way of life.”
In his gorgeous book Barbarian Days, Finnegan tells the story of a doctor friend of his who became obsessed with cancer research. He admitted however that he wasn’t so much interested in the cancer research as he was in people’s responses to it. In miming to the author the human struggle against adversity that he witnessed in his work, Finnegan notes that the doctor was clawing at the air with his arms, in the same way a surfer would struggle to reach the surface of the sea after being swallowed alive by a turbulent wave.
And so the doctor was not just a doctor but a surfer, and not just a surfer but a doctor.
And it works for social situations and relationships too.
Make the effort. Talk to people because you want to find out about them, you want to be interested, you want to be more generous with your time and your spirit. Make eye contact. Give people a firm handshake and your undivided attention. Less thought about your own words and more action.
If you make deliberate effort at what you’re doing, with a deeper aim of who you want to be, the effort will be reflected in the weeks and months from when you start building the habits.
The point is, the intention of your ‘work’ will reflect in who you become. Every moment of your life is a chance to practice becoming who you want to be. And your ‘work’ can be anything you do.
Focus on the moment and whatever it is you’re doing. And do it to the best of your abilities. Getting something wrong is no problem. The doing is more important. Just try to get it right the next time.
Most important of all is focused attention. That’s where practice comes in, as it’s harder than you’d think to give something your utmost attention.
Talking to people without thinking of your phone or the jobs you’ve to do at home.
Running without wishing you were at home chilling out.
Playing the guitar without resenting how shit you are at it.
That’s why it takes practice.
But the work you put in in doing these things is where you’re at your best, where you learn the most, and where you’re happiest.
Focused attention on what you’re doing, no matter how trivial. It’s a myth of the modern ideal of hyper-productivity that you should be thinking of everything all at once. .
Choose your intentions wisely
You choose what to give your attention to.
The choice is yours. You can even choose badly.
Some people train to get stronger so they can be the biggest, loudest lad in the room. So they can start fights with a good chance of winning.
Some people run to ‘run away’.
Why do you go to mass?
Is it to dedicate a part of yourself to the greater good and achieve peace on earth in the name of serving a mysterious but beautiful higher power?
Or do you use it as an excuse to hate people who are different to you, because of their sexuality or their own religion?
It all depends on your intentions.
You can train yourself for any purpose.
If you work out simply to build mass or muscle, to be the biggest and hardest and loudest lad in the gym or the pub on a Saturday night, then sure, the strength will stand to you. As will your physique.
But there’s far more to be gained from training.
And ‘just showing up’ is aimless. It can be a good mentality to develop the habit of doing things, and there may be some gains in strength or fitness but there won’t be much to take home from the gym. It’s the classic case of the guy who can bench 150kg but ‘doesn’t know how to use his strength’.
You’d hear it thrown around a lot about fellas on the football pitch.
The neuronal connections of how and why to use that strength outside of the narrow focus of the bench and rack — they’re literally missing.
The only goal in this case is to be strong in the gym, or to look good. The results don’t carry over.
Focused activity is vital. “Never mistake mere activity for progress” as legendary college basketball coach John Wooden imparts to Daniel Coyle in his book The Talent Code.
Just showing up is no use. It can have desired physical effects, like getting bigger biceps or being able to outrun others. But you won’t make real progress. You’ll just be stuck in a loop of training.
It’s how people spend years wishing their lives away in their jobs. Get in, go through the motions, watch the clock, check out. Same as in training. You might get bigger and stronger and fitter but you won’t see the results translate into your life.
The work gets done in a sense, but there’s no learning, no growth.
If you show up at your dead-end job with the intention of getting the hell out of there within a few months, a year, whatever — then every bit of effort you put into doing your job will bring you closer to that goal.
But if you have bigger intentions and focus your attention on the training you’re doing, then the results will be exponential.
Relax
It doesn’t all have to be about sustained productivity either. Relaxation is massively important, as are regular breaks from information bombardment.
But like everything else, if you’re going to relax you should give it your full attention.
And also like everything else, it takes a bit of practice to be able to fully switch off.
When you take a break, relax. Not with the intention of numbing your restless mind on your phone. That’s neither learning nor relaxation. When you’re taking a break, take a break. Put your phone away and go for a walk. Give your brain a rest.
“Doing nothing is better than being busy doing nothing.” — Lao Tsu
Enjoy yourself, and do so with the intention of enjoying yourself, not with the aim of numbing your brain. It might sound counter-intuitive, but to truly be present with your mind free of stresses — like everything else — takes practice.
So ask yourself again, why do you practice?
Why do you even bother trying to stay fit or play a sport or practice a hobby?
Why do you bother doing anything?
There’s much more to be gained than merely showing up just because ‘you should.’
Why do I run?
I run to be fit, to be energetic, to be clear-headed, to be smarter.
And to be free, physically moving through the world going exactly where I want to go. Oblivious to the sweat and the mud and the pain. Enjoying the work. To travel in a small way, to see the world with new eyes and more focus. To run into new places, to push myself to unknown places, both in terms of my endurance but also geographically.
When you run, you run yourself into a flow state without even meaning to. The physical exertion, the breathing and feeling of achievement all contribute to it. Running moves your brain.
And the ‘runner’s high’ is a high that can be achieved by anyone, engaging in any activity.
Reading, playing guitar, playing football, writing. Chatting with your friends. Painting a picture. Painting a house.
When I run, I get tired. My heart pounds. I feel pain. I sweat. Sometimes I get hurt. But it’s fine.
I get dirty, and then the next time I get dirty I’m a bit more okay with it.
I push my limits, and realise that a lot of them are self-imposed.
I achieve things, and then realise that I can achieve other things.
I enjoy nature and running around the city, and the next day my walk to work is a little bit brighter.
I see people and I nod the head and say “Well?”. Sometimes they acknowledge me, other times maybe not. Either way, the next day I’m a bit friendlier to strangers.
My mind clears itself, and it lasts for the evening. I get stuff done with a clear head and it gets a little easier the next time, and then easier again after that. And after a bit of practice, it gets easier to do when I’m not feeling myself, when I’m tired and anxious and putting everything off.
When I run, the swirl of thoughts gets worse at first, and then calmer.
When I run, I sense joy. I get stressed. I do work. I smile. Sometimes I even laugh.
I learn.
And then it gets easier to do all those things the next time.
When I run, I’m myself. And the more I run, the more I’m myself.
And being myself becomes a habit that keeps on building even when I’m not running.
It’s training for life.
Further reading:
Can’t Hurt Me by David Goggins
Born to Run by Christopher McDougall
Flow by Mihalyi Csikszentmihalyi
The Talent Code by Daniel Coyle
Barbarian Days by William Finnegan
Confessions of an Ultra-Marathon Runner by Dean Karnazes
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